


Oh My God They Were Housemates

by ghost_bitch



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, G/T, Giant Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Giant Logic | Logan Sanders, Giant Morality | Patton Sanders, Giant/Tiny, Giants, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tiny Anxiety | Virgil Sanders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23334517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghost_bitch/pseuds/ghost_bitch
Summary: Virgil, a young human desperate for a cheap house, made a home for himself living with three giants who were all too accommodating to his size. What comes next?HEAVILY inspired by this amazing fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16066949(On The Giant Side)Go check it out before you read this!
Comments: 18
Kudos: 110





	1. Mugged (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Listen......its been a fucking grip since I took part in this fandom but... I'm very bored and very quarinted and these are some pretty fun characters to write with G/T so.... here we are. 
> 
> Plus I think a low stakes oneshot collection will be a nice change of pace! Anyways enjoy!

It has been four months, almost to the day, since Virgil had moved into a household of giants, and things are going surprisingly well. His terror of his roommate’s immense size had slowly subsided into intrinsic fear. They had a house meeting in the first week of Virgil’s stay on the subject, which was mostly Virgil apologizing and explaining that he wasn't scared of them, but was instinctively intimidated by their power over him. They had taken it very well, in Virgil’s opinion, and they had all made an effort to seem less intimidating in Virgil’s presence. 

So yes, things are great. Except for the fact that Virgil had just been mugged. He stands outside of the human-sized door that had been installed for him, staring at the brass handle as though he has a personal vendetta against it. Virgil considers himself lucky that he didn't have much of value on him when he had been attacked, and so had only lost around twenty dollars in loose bills. It was disappointing, to be sure, but not the end of the world. More concerning was his pounding headache that had begun after he had been shoved into a rough wall and the debilitating pain in his shoulder from where the mugger had punched him. 

Virgil eventually reasons that he can probably get past his housemates without them noticing his injuries, and then clean himself up in his bathroom. He turns the handle of the door, wincing at the way it moves his injured shoulder and walks into the giant house. He is immediately assaulted by noise on all sides, mainly his housemates welcoming him home, thankfully not yelling. He raises his uninjured arm and gives a half-hearted greeting in return. A tired smile finds its way onto his face despite his pain. It is always nice to come home to such a positive and genuine welcome. 

Virgil begins making his way to his room, before he pauses, swaying on his feet slightly as his head spins. It is with a sudden jolt that he realizes he can not remember what he is supposed to be doing. He catches sight of movement in the kitchen, and his weary eyes latch onto it instinctively. His feet begin carrying him forward before he even recognizes the figure swaying in the small kitchen, though as he gets closer the blur of blue and grey begins to take shape into one of his housemates, Patton. Virgil stumbles slightly but doesn't fall. Patton notices his movements, and his clear blue eyes lock onto his form. Virgil feels something in him freeze up, as he always does when he felt one of the giant’s eyes fall on him, but he resolutely doesn't flinch, not wanting to hurt Patton’s feelings. 

He must have lost a couple of moments, because the next thing he knows there is a hand descending next to him. Virgil luckily bites back a shout of fear but isn’t able to stop himself from jumping slightly, if Patton’s apologetic smile is anything to go by. Virgil gives a shaky smile and puts his hand on Patton’s thumb to steady himself as he climbs onto the warm surface He sits with his back straight, careful not to press his aching shoulder into Patton’s skin and worsen the no doubt nasty bruise that is forming there. 

Virgil’s headache makes way for nausea as he is hefted upwards, but he really doesn't want to empty the contents of his stomach on his friend’s hand, so he closes his eyes tightly to stave off vertigo and swallows hard to keep down any bile that may or may not be rising up his throat. If Patton notices how tightly he is clinging to his hand, he doesn't say anything.  
“Hey there kiddo, how was work?” Patton asks, brightly as ever.  
“Fine.” Virgil answers quickly, not willing to keep his mouth open for long periods of time right now. Patton seems to notice his reluctance to speak and does not try to coerce him into any more conversation, which Virgil is grateful for. 

Virgil is set on the cold granite countertop, and he sits, happy to not be so high up in the air, but already missing the heat from Patton’s skin, quickly leached away by the chilled stone. Virgil suppresses a shiver and leans back on his hands, ignoring the twinge of pain in his shoulder. The pain seems to be dulling considerably, which Virgil knew was either very good or very bad. He was having trouble thinking through the fog in his mind and the web of pain that thrummed through his head. Patton had stood up to his full, gargantuan height and held a red mixing bowl in one hand. Virgil craned his neck to see Patton’s face, before finally giving up on looking up and instead he lies on his back fully. The cold, smooth countertop felt amazing on his shoulder, and he sighed contentedly, feeling the first tendrils of sleep begin to tug at him. 

It takes a few moments before he realizes that the kitchen is more silent than it should be, and he blinks his dark eyes open to see Patton staring at him worriedly.  
“Whats up popstar,” Virgil mutters sleepily, wondering distantly if Patton can feel when others are in pain. It would make all his mother-henning make sense. A visual of Patton corralling him into a nest enters his mind and Virgil huffs out a quiet laugh at the idea, which only makes Patton look more worried.  
“Are you alright there, kiddo?” Patton asks hesitantly, setting down his mixing bowl. Virgil blinks at the words, not comprehending them for a few moments before they were sorted out in his muddled brain.  
“Yeah, totally.” Virgil lies, closing his eyes once again and hoping that Patton would let him sleep on the counter, knowing that he totally would if Virgil played up how tired he was. It wouldn't be hard. He was very, very tired.  
“Okay, did anything interesting happen today?” Patton asks, voice carefully measured, and Virgil is thankful for the subject change. Virgil opens his mouth to speak, then realizes that he can't remember anything that happened that day. Everything was just a haze of pain. He just shrugs instead.  
“May I pick you up, Virgil?” Patton asks, poorly concealed nervousness trickling through his voice. Virgil is beginning to shiver from the cold countertop, and so nods at Patton’s request, holding shaking arms out like a sick child, and confused by the amount of effort it took for such a small movement. 

Warm hands wrap around Virgil’s form and lift him up, much more slowly this time, and Virgil watches Patton’s worry turn to fear as he lies completely limp in his hand. Patton adjusts him slightly to as not to let him slip, and as Virgil is pushed to the side, Patton sucks in a shaky breath, a noise filled with horror.  
“Oh my god, what happened to you?” Patton cries, louder than normal, but still considerate of Virgil’s smaller size, which he appreciates.  
“Wha’ d’ya’ mean?” Virgil mutters, words blending together.  
“You're bleeding!” Patton exclaims, unfortunately loudly enough for the other housemates to hear, and they both immediately rush into the room, eyes flickering over them to see who is injured.  
“Who’s bleeding?” Logan asks, all business as usual.  
“Where’s the danger?” Roman shouts with his usual gusto at the same moment. Virgil lets his eyes fall shut again, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of noise and movement in the room. 

Virgil feels himself being hugged gently against Patton’s chest and hears his heartbeat going much faster than it should be, though it typically beats more slowly than a human’s.  
“Virgil’s hurt,” Patton says, voice remarkably steady even as the others in the room make noises of horror. “One of you needs to call a human ambulance.” Virgil hears Logan’s dress shoes click on the linoleum as he walks back to the living room, and presumably, his phone. Virgil feels himself being lifted, but he doesn't have the energy to open his eyes again.  
“Ohh… Virgil, what happened to you?” Patton mutters, and Virgil takes a shaky breath before managing to speak.  
“Mugged.” He says shortly, hoping that he will be allowed to sleep soon. Roman takes a sharp breath above him, and the anger in the sound would have Virgil flinching if he had the energy to move. 

Logan renters the room, voice serious and dark.  
“We need to perform first-aid.” He announces. “The ambulance will not be here in time.” The other two giants both make noises of protest, but are shut down quickly, presumably by Logan holding his hand up in his very teacher-y way that made all the others shut up.  
“I know it’s risky, but it’s that or leaving him to bleed out.” Virgil hears fabric rustling and assumes Logan has rolled up his sleeves.  
“The ambulance will be here in thirty minutes. Roman, go get the first aid kit.” Logan commands. And with that, Virgil finally loses the battle with unconsciousness.


	2. Mugged (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First aid first aid first aid- 
> 
> Warnings:   
> -discussion of blood and wounds

Patton is very proud that his hands are not shaking despite the tears that are forming in his eyes and the fact that his breath is coming in quick, panicked puffs. His hands are not shaking. He refuses to let them. Not when they are cradling the life of one of his best friends and housemate, who is bleeding out in the palm of his hand.   
“Patton set him down on the counter. On his stomach.” Logan commands, voice leaving no room for argument. Patton sets Virgil down like he's a tiny glass figurine, one that will shatter with one wrong move. Roman returns with the first aid kit, which has a much smaller, human-sized first aid kit in the side pocket, which they had bought a few days after Virgil’s arrival. He had gotten a nasty cut on his hand and they had the disheartening realization that all their medical supplies were far too big to be of any use to the human. 

Logan removes the kit and sets it next to Virgil’s prone form, and then takes a small, collapsable magnifying glass out of the larger first aid kit and begins examining their smallest housemate. Patton barks out a delirious laugh at the absurdity of it all, but his mouth snaps shut when Roman gives him a worried look out of the corner of his eye. 

“Damnit,” Logan curses suddenly, giving Patton’s already frayed nerves a shock. “Why does he have to wear all black, I can't see how much he’s bleeding.” He holds a steady hand out.   
“Roman, hand me the scissors.” The words are barely out of his mouth before a small, silver pair of thread scissors are in his hand. Logan wastes no time cutting a clean slit in Virgil’s jacket and black sweater. Patton winces and resolves to wash and sew the bloody clothes later.   
“Wet washcloth,” Logan demands, and Roman bites his lip.   
“Anything we have here would be too rough. It would just tear him up more.” Roman argues. Logan frowns and Patton begins to pat down his pockets for a solution. Miraculously, he finds one.   
“My glasses rag!” He nearly shouts, making the housemates who were conscious jump in surprise at the sudden noise. Patton didn't have to wait long for the chaos to start up again as Logan snatches the rag from him and dips it into a cup of cold water sitting nearby before dragging it gently down Virgil’s blood-caked back. Virgil shivers in his sleep at the sensation but doesn't move.

As the blood is washed away it reveals the source of the gore, a deep cut on his right shoulder. Patton squints slightly, feeling that it wasn't quite a cut, and his hand shoots to his mouth as he realizes. Someone had stabbed his friend. Anger begins to wash over him in waves, and Patton is hardly aware of the furious tears rolling down his face until Roman grabs his hand tightly, startling him out of his haze of anger.   
“He’s going to be okay,” Roman says, an unrelenting certainty to his voice that calms Patton down. He takes a breath and nods.   
“He’s probably got a pretty nasty concussion,” Logan says flatly, standing back a bit and looking to Patton. “I need to disinfect the stab wound, but he’s gonna struggle, especially if he’s delirious. You need to hold him down or he might open his wound more.” Logan explains. Patton blinks as he processes the sentence. Holding down one of his friends as they writhed in pain wasn't his idea of fun. Heck, if it was anyone’s idea of fun he certainly didn't want to meet them, but if Virgil hit his head again he could come away from this with serious brain damage. 

Patton steps forward.   
“How do I hold him?” He asks, voice steady and strong. Logan shows Patton how to hold his friend down without crushing him, and Patton follows every instruction to the letter, unwilling to be the cause of any more of his friend’s distress. Logan carefully presses the antiseptic soaked cloth to the wound on Virgil’s back, and he snaps awake with a hoarse scream. Patton flinches but doesn't let go even as Virgil thrashes against him, attempting ot pummel him with his tiny fists. Eventually, his adrenaline-fueled coherence fades and he falls limp again, now only muttering under Patton’s hand. Patton can't hear him very well over the blood roaring in his ears, but he can definitely hear pleas for Patton not to hurt him. 

Patton’s heart weeps, not just at Virgil’s words, but also for the sudden reminder of Patton’s power over Virgil. All three of the giants living in that house tried their best to make Virgil feel like the equal he was, no matter the physical power imbalance between them. They rarely picked him up without permission. The only time Patton had done that was when he saw a spider crawling silently towards Virgil, and had snatched the younger man off the counter as quickly as he could, before running from the room and screaming for Roman to deal with the spider. Virgil had been mostly confused, but a little pissed, until Patton tearfully explained what had happened, and gave the many scenarios that had run through his head of Virgil being eaten or poisoned by the villainous spider. 

Patton shook his head of the memory and focused firmly on the still twitching form of his friend under his hand. Logan moves the cloth over the wound and guides Patton’s hand to cover it.   
“Keep pressure on the wound. Roman, go wait for the ambulance.” Logan commands. Roman salutes and rushes to wait outside while Patton counts his breaths the way Virgil taught him and keeps an even pressure on the stab wound.   
“Is he going to be okay?” Patton hears himself ask, although he can barely make out the sound of his own voice. Logan takes a shaky breath that makes Patton’s heart sink.   
“92.3 percent of people with stab wounds survive and make full recoveries. With proper treatment, of course.” Logan informs him flatly. Patton huffs out a shaky laugh.   
“You just know that?” Patton asks, voice watery with unshed tears. Logan doesn't get a chance to answer before Roman bursts back into the room, calling out that the ambulance is here. Logan and Patton immediately burst into action. Patton holds Virgil’s unconscious body close to his chest, pressing his thumb over his shoulder blade to keep the blood where it belongs as he takes long strides to the door, moving faster than he ever had while holding Virgil. 

They make it outside and kneel down next to the ambulance. Patton opens his hands and lets the paramedics take Virgil’s limp body and maneuver it into a stretcher, and then into the back of the ambulance. A sigh of relief escapes from Patton now that he knows Virgil is in good hands. Or at least hands that aren't as big as his entire body.   
“I don't suppose we would be able to follow you to the hospital,” Roman says dryly. One of the paramedics, the one holding a clipboard and looking at them expectantly, laughs, equally dry.   
“I'm afraid not.” She says plainly, clicking a pen and resting it on the paper.   
“I have a few questions about the patient before we take him since you can't go with him and he doesn't have his ID. Name?”   
“Virgil Temus,” Patton answers instantly.   
“Age?”   
“Twenty.” Roman answers now, cutting Patton off in his anxiousness to be helpful.   
“Any medications we should know about?”   
“He takes Lexapro,” Logan answers. The paramedic looks a bit confused by the constant shift in who answers, but shrugs.   
“Okay, that all sounds good. Do any of you know what happened?” She asks, looking at something on her clipboard.   
“It wasn't us!” Roman shouts suddenly. The paramedic levels him with a flat look that has his shrink back slightly in embarrassment.   
“Yeah. Its a stab wound and a concussion.” She says humorlessly. “Unless you stabbed him with an earring or something, I’m not sure that dog hunts.” With that, the paramedic asks for a number to call for updates on Virgil’s condition and climbs back into the ambulance. 

The three giants watch the small white car get smaller and smaller until they can no longer see it, and then turn to each other, tear tracks drying on all of their faces, besides Logan’s of course. 

They all make their way back inside and put on a movie, although no one can focus on it. Patton checks his phone every few minutes, even when there are no notifications, just in case Virgil’s condition has changed. When they finally do get an update, it is a good one, to all of their relief. 

Virgil is fine and is going to make a full and speedy recovery. The only truly sad thing about this whole mess was that the three of them can't visit him in the hospital. All three of them decided to send Virgil the best get-well-soon package that anyone had ever received.

_________________________________________

Two days later Virgil is laughing at a pun Patton had dropped. The giants may not be able to visit him physically in the hospital, but nothing was stopping them from face timing, which they had been doing religiously every day since Virgil had woken up.   
“I think the nurse hates you guys,” Virgil complains. “He has to deliver so much stuff to my room.”   
“We would incur the wrath of a thousand medical professionals for you, my diminutive downer!” Roman calls out dramatically. Virgil rolls his eyes, but his small smile does not leave his face, and all three of his housemates consider that a win.


	3. Chilly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil tries to trick his roommates into cuddling him. He fails.

Winter was approaching fast, and it seemed like it was going to be a particularly rough one if the quickly dropping temperature was any indication. The sudden dip in heat went relatively unnoticed by the three giant members of the household but impacted the smallest housemate much more significantly. 

Virgil shivered hard enough to nearly drop his phone, not that the device was doing him much good at the moment. He had begun scrolling through his twitter mindlessly around half an hour ago, trying to take his mind off the freezing temperatures in his makeshift room, though it was getting harder to move his fingers as his joint stiffened and his fingertips grew numb. He sighs deeply in annoyance and lets his phone fall to the bed, watching it bounce slightly on the mattress before he stands and stretches. He pulls open the black curtains blocking his window to see if his housemates are home, though it was really unnecessary at this point, as he could already hear their voices booming through the walls like distant thunder. 

He makes the short trip to the floor, stumbling and nearly sending himself headfirst down the stairs that were carefully carved into the wall. He shook off the headrush that came with the sudden lack of balance and planted his feet firmly on the wood flooring of the living room. He marches towards the couch where he knows his housemates are sitting. There was always a movie night on Fridays at six, and it was Friday and currently 5:45, so they were probably deciding on what movie to watch. Virgil was always invited but rarely attended. He liked spending time with them, he just didn't have the attention span to focus on a movie for more than 20 minutes. Now though, it wasn't like he could stay in his room without shivering too hard to sleep, so he might as well stay out here and leech some body heat from his giant friends. 

He finally reaches the couch after a short jog, or rather, he reaches the rope ladder leading up to the small end table next to the couch. Virgil really appreciates the gesture, and that he doesn't have to rely on his housemates to get around, but he absolutely hates climbing that stupid ladder and almost never does it. It is far too wobbly for his tastes and makes him feel like the ropes are going to snap and send him plummeting at any moment. At least when one of his friends picks him up they have the other hand to catch him if he falls. He clears his throat and calls out Roman’s name, hoping his voice, much quieter than his friends, would cut through their conversation and be heard. 

Of course, it is, and Roman’s head snaps to the source of the noise instantly, at first looking far above Virgil’s head, and then falling onto Virgil. A wide smile stretches across Roman’s face at Virgil’s presence. Seeing someone make that face in response to his presence makes something in Virgil warm up pleasantly, but it doesn't solve the problem he came here for, so he opens his arms imploringly, inviting Roman to lift him to the couch. Roman doesn't hesitate before scooping him up in one hand, holding him slightly tighter than was comfortable but not painfully so. Virgil holds back a shiver at Roman’s cold hands, realizing that he must have just gotten back inside, and waits until Roman sets him gently on the end table. Virgil curses internally, now he needs to find an excuse to sit with one of his housemates without letting them know how cold he was. If they knew how cold he got, they would certainly increase the heating in the house to an uncomfortable level for them, and worse, a much more expensive level. Virgil used so little resources that his rent is very cheap, not nearly enough to cover a heating bill large enough to heat the entire house enough that Virgil would stop needing to wear parkas indoors. Heat rises, after all, and Virgil was more often than not very close to the ground. 

“What are we watching?” Virgil asks, hoping his voice wasn't giving away his suppressed shivers. Patton jumps at his voice, apparently not having realized he was there and stares at him in surprise for a moment before his face relaxes into familiar excitement.   
“Oh! Virgil, I didn't know you were joining us!” Patton says, joy coloring his tone. “We were just going to come to ask if you wanted to come and pick! It is your turn this week, after all!” 

Something clicks in Virgil’s head, remembering Patton’s panic whenever a spider was so much as mentioned… as well as his protectiveness over Virgil. If Virgil could plant the thought of spiders in Patton’s head, his mother-henning would kick into overdrive and would practically insist on clinging to Virgil like a frightened child, and Virgil would never have to admit his discomfort with the temperature of the house.   
“Arachnophobia!” Virgil blurts suddenly, much louder than he meant to. Patton’s smile drops slightly at Virgil’s suggestion, and Virgil feels the cold fog of guilt already starting to prick at his mind. He dismisses it quickly. He would feel much more guilty not being able to pay the immense heating bill.   
“Arachnophobia it is!” Roman cries out suddenly, seizing the remote. 

_________________________________________

It isn't far into the movie before Patton is shaking. Virgil is shaking too, but for different reasons. Patton has his hands over his eyes and is peeking through his parted fingers, pupils constricted with horror at the scenes on the large TV.   
“Are you alright, Patton?” Logan says, voice neutral as always. “You are shaking quite badly. You don't need to watch the movie if it upsets you.”   
“No, it’s too late,” Patton says miserably. “I'm already invested in the characters.” Virgil bites his lip, already regretting tricking Patton into watching the movie. Especially since he hadn't yet snatched Virgil off the end table protectively as Virgil had hoped.   
“Virgil,” Logan continues, making Virgil jump at the sudden attention. “You're shaking as well. I know you are a fan of horror, but you need to know your limits.” 

Virgil shook his head frantically.   
“What? No, this is great. I just had a little bit too much caffeine!” Virgil winces internally at the lie but doesn't take it back. Loe narrows his bespectacled eyes at the human for a moment before reaching for the remote and pausing the movie, causing Patton to breathe out an immense sigh of relief and Roman to make a dramatic noise of protest.   
“No, if you were overly caffeinated you would be jittery, but not trembling as you are. If the movie scares you that badly we do not need to finish it.” Logan insists. Virgil frowns, his pride slightly bruised at the insinuation that he would be that scared by a movie he picked.   
“No! Guys, I'm not scared!” Virgil insists, throwing his arms into the air imploringly. Patton looks to him now, eyebrows furrowing in concern, and Virgil curses himself upon the realization that he has only dug a deeper hole for himself.   
“Then why are you shaking?” Patton asks worriedly, hand hovering over him anxiously. “Are you sick?” Virgil shoves at Patton’s hand halfheartedly, rolling his eyes at his housemate’s hovering.   
“No, I'm not sick. You guys worry too much! And that’s coming from me!” Virgil insists though none of them look convinced. 

While Virgil is distracted with preserving his dignity, Roman moves behind him and presses his index finger to his forehead. Well, really, he presses it to his whole face, but the sentiment is there. When Roman pulls away Virgil sputters indignantly and turns to glare at his roommate.   
“What the hell was that for?” Virgil almost-shouts, crossing his arms. Roman doesn’t respond to his irritation, instead only looking at him in surprise, which quickly shifts to concern.   
“You're freezing!” Roman exclaims. “Logan why is he so cold?” He immediately questions, hoping that the most studious out of all of them would have an answer. Logan leans over Virgil scrutinizingly as Patton hovers behind him anxiously, and Virgil realizes with a spike of irritation that tricking them into holding him was perhaps not as simple as he had hoped it would be.   
“Ugh!” Virgil cries out, spinning on his heel to hide his blushing face from his housemates. “Guys I’m fine! I'm just cold!” Virgil mutters the last part, crossing his arms over his chest as though that will act as armor for his embarrassment at the admission of his discomfort. 

His housemates blink at him blankly for a moment before all three of them relax visibly.   
“Oh gosh, Virgil! Why didn't you just say something?” Patton asks, relief palpable in his voice.   
“Yes, that is far more easily solved than any of the other scenarios I was worried about,” Logan admits, adjusting his glasses.   
“Oh, it is all my fault!” Roman cries out melodramatically, flopping down onto the loveseat as though it was chaise lounge and shaking the table under Virgil’s feet. “I had cold hands when I picked him up, and now he is nearly frozen to death!” Virgil rolls his eyes at his friend’s dramatics.   
“Don't be such a narcissist,” Virgil drawls teasingly. “I'm always cold. It’s just almost winter so it’s easier to notice.” Virgil jumps suddenly with a small sound that he would never admit to being a squeak as Logan puts a finger to the back of his neck to check his temperature.   
“Hm,” He ponders lowly. “I suppose it makes sense that you wouldn't retain much body heat. The smaller a creature is, the less heat it produces, after all.” 

“So how do we keep you warm all winter?” Patton asks worriedly. “I don't want you freezing in your own home.”   
“A heater is not viable,” Logan announces after a few moments of pondering. “It is too likely to start fires, and we wouldn't be able to use a fire extinguisher in his room if Virgil is in there without the foam suffocating him.” 

Virgil shudders at the mental image, and makes another mental mark on the list of ‘things that could go wrong and kill me while living with giants’. Patton’s eyes are wide and watery at the explanation, hands hovering around Virgil like they can shield him from the concept of being hurt. Virgil appreciates Patton’s protectiveness, but he wishes that it had kicked in when Virgil had planned it to rather than now then the cat was already out of the bag.   
“Body heat is one way of going about this,” Logan says finally, bringing his index finger to his chin in thought. “No worry of Virgil getting burned or starting any fires.” Logan turns to look at him again, eyes sharp and distant in the way that they only are when he is trying to solve a problem.   
“Are you alright with that arrangement, Virgil? It would mean a lot more physical contact during the winter months, but it will hopefully keep you warm enough to be comfortable. Of course, we will also turn the heat up, but that’s a given-”   
“Hold on!” Virgil calls out, cutting Logan off. “You don't need to do that, I'm sure I’ll be fine. I know how expensive heating is, and I'm not contributing nearly enough to justify that.” Virgil argues, causing his housemates to frown. Virgil flinches back at their expressions, worried he had said something wrong. 

“Is that why you didn't tell us you were cold?” Roman asks after a few moments of silence. Virgil doesn’t respond, but it seems to be all the answer Roman needs.   
“Virgil, the money doesn't matter. We’re all making enough to rest on our laurels a bit, and we don't mind spending a little bit of extra money to make you comfortable.” Roman insists, making Virgil flush slightly at the admission.  
“But for now!” Patton sings out cheerfully. “Cuddles!” Virgil can't hold back a small laugh.   
“I prefer calling it ‘preserving body heat’, but whatever floats your boat, paps,” Virgil says, stepping up to Patton and patting his arm slightly. Patton’s hand lowers down to Virgil’s level and Virgil limbs onto it, holding onto his thumb as he is lifted upward to Patton’s shoulder. He climbs down onto the shoulder of his polo, feet slipping slightly on the smooth fabric of his cardigan before he regains his footing and sits down, unconsciously leaning into his friend’s neck, soaking in the warmth and letting out a sigh of contentment. 

“Since I put you through that whole spider mess, you can pick now Patton. I didn't really want to watch it anyway.” Virgil admits, and Patton’s shoulders intense under Virgil, jostling him slightly.   
“Let’s watch Ratatouille.” Patton sighs out in relief. 

________________________________________________________

Tears are rolling down Patton’s face by the time the movie ends, as is almost always the case on movie nights, and he puts a hand to his shoulder for Virgil to climb onto and make his way back to his room, but no small, living weight settles on his palm. A worm of worry for his friend wiggle its way into his stomach, but Patton can't turn to look without possibly upsetting his tiny passenger’s position, so he grabs Logan’s sleeve, a slightly panicked look in his eyes.   
“Is Virgil okay?” Patton asks, whispering slightly, voice hushed by the dark room. Logan smiles slightly and rolls his eyes, holding out his phone for Patton to see himself. 

Patton’s eyes swell with happy tears at the sight of his newest and smallest roommate curled in the crook of his neck, fast asleep, face unburdened by the tension it usually carried.   
“Looks like you're sleeping on the couch tonight.” Logan teases before heading off to his own room. Patton moves Virgil to be lying on his chest so that he can sleep on his back and pulls a woolen blanket over them both, careful not to cover Virgil’s head. 

They both sleep through breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was weird. Subscribe to this story if you wanna be notified when this story updates, and leave a comment if you liked it, or if you didnt, and thank you very much for reading. If you have any suggestions for scenes or prompts for chapters let me know and I'll try to fit it in!
> 
> If you have any questions or just wanna chat, contact my G/T side blog on tumblr @rat-cowboy


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